Title: Touched by an Angel
Author: loonie_lupin
Fandom: HP, SPN
Rating: PG
Summary: Harry is freezing in his cupboard. Castiel intervenes..
For: crossovers100
Prompt: 086. Cold
Disclaimer: The characters are the property of their respective creator. I own nothing.

Thanks to dixid who read through the story to correct my mistakes. If some are left, they are my own.

086. Cold.

In his cupboard under the stair, Harry was shivering. In all of his five years of existence, the little boy didn't think he had ever felt that cold, not even the one night he had found himself locked out of the house because Uncle Vernon had been mad he hadn't been able to finish the gardening in time and had locked the door before Harry could come in. That night had been in the middle of summer and it was very warm outside. To be truthful, Harry hadn't really minded staying outside all that much. He hadn't felt safe, because it was never safe to be outside alone, but at least he knew he wouldn't sweat all night long like he usually did during the summer because his cupboard was overheated.

Tonight, though, it was different because the cupboard was freezing. He could see his breath. It was because the radiator inside the place he called his room wasn't working and the Dursleys didn't exactly have what you could call a vast interest in Harry's health so they didn't care about. Oh, they would probably get it repaired one of these days but it was certainly not a top priority.

His thin little blanket wasn't nearly enough to keep him warm and his teeth simply would stop chattering. He had curled in on himself to try to get a bit warmer but it wasn't working. His little body was suffering and, had he been older, he would have known he was already on the verge of hypothermia, with his lips and extremities blue. Of course, he had no way of knowing that.

All he knew was that he was cold, that he felt as if he would never be able to get warm again. Yet, he wasn't all that aware of it. He was seeing it with a kind of detachment, as if he was observing something happening to someone else. He was already beginning to lose the fight against sleep and, unbeknown to him, against death. If he went to sleep now, he would probably never wake up again but, once again, he didn't know that. And why would he fight against the comfort of being somewhere else, somewhere he wouldn't feel the cold anymore.

Castiel, who was watching his charge attentively, yet without revealing himself to the boy, could feel Harry's will to fall asleep and, with it, the spark that allowed him to live beginning to fade away. He knew that, once his eyes were closed, the little boy wouldn't live very longer. Besides, even if he somehow managed the miracle of staying awake, he would probably not survive until dawn. The night was too cold, the coldest Britain had known in decades, and there was no way the man-child would have the strength to stay in this world, not with his little body so malnourished.

He knew he wasn't supposed to interfere in the live of his charge. It was one of the rules he had to follow when he took a human under his wing, so to speak. However, if the kid was so important, as special as Uriel had made him to be – and Castiel could feel deep inside him that it was the case – he knew that he had to stay alive. Castiel needed to help and he needed to do it now, before it was too late.

Harry was beginning to lose the battle with consciousness when he felt something touching him. It wasn't a physical touch, no, but it felt like a kind of embrace. He could feel the warmth, not like the warmth of the radiator but a kind of warmth he had only known in his sleep, usually when he dreamed of the redheaded woman with green eyes. He didn't know who she was but, in his dreams, her presence always made him feel safe and loved. Harry had always loved to imagine the woman watching over him and, sometimes, it was as if he could feel her presence even when he was awake.

Now he could feel the same warmth and it was so nice, like he was in one of his dreams. Maybe he was. He knew he could have felt asleep without realizing but it was strange. Normally, in his dream, he was never this tired and the cupboard was never there, only in his nightmares. Yet, he was in the cupboard but it didn't feel like a nightmare so, maybe, it was real.

Again, his tiredness overwhelmed him and he felt himself slid down toward sleep. It wasn't the same sensation though. Before, it had felt like surrendering but, this time, it was as if he was sliding towards something welcoming, something peaceful. Yet he was fighting more than before because he didn't want to escape the cold anymore. He wanted to stay awake to feel the presence and he knew that, if he felt asleep, it would be gone once he woke up because it always went away when he woke up, like the woman.

Yet he found himself unable to go on fighting. Just as his eyes fluttered close, he felt something on his forehead. It was like the brushing of a hand or maybe lips. Harry wasn't sure. No one had made any gesture like this toward him but he had seen Petunia do it to Dudley countless times, even sometimes Uncle Vernon but only if Dudley was sick. Harry had always tried to imagine what it would feel like and he thought that was it.

He wanted to know who was touching him like no one ever did before, who would show him love, so he concentrated on opening his eyes before it was too late. As it was, he actually saw something, something that would have had most people afraid but which didn't bother Harry at all. It was a pair of blue eyes, blue like the sky but way much bluer and deeper and they seemed kind and nice and warmth and everything like the eyes of the woman of his dreams – well, expect for the color but that wasn't really important. He could see the love in them and it wasn't the same kind of love he saw in Aunt Petunia's eyes when she watched Dudley. It was something deeper and that made him smile because there was at least someone who loved him.

Finally, he felt his eyes close once again and, this time, he didn't fight it. He slept, for hours, feeling safer and more peaceful than ever before. And when he woke up, the presence may have been gone but he still felt safe and warm. He saw the radiator working once again and thought that maybe everything had been just a dream, encouraged by the warmth of the radiator but, just in case Harry hadn't imagined it, he looked up.

"Thank you," the little boy murmured, stars in his eyes as he addressed his guardian angel.

Castiel, still watching over attentively, smiled as he saw his young charge happier than ever.

"You're welcome little one."